Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“Possibly,” Finn says. “It’s hard to say, but it’s fair to assume that she knows now. That’s why she wants you alive. If she can capture you—hold you somewhere alive but unreachable—then there’s a chance we won’t be able to reunite the crown and its power.”
I glance toward the night sky. “How long was I out?”
“It’s been a day and half since the attack. Misha, Sebastian, and I have taken turns keeping watch over you, but”—he averts his eyes and smiles slightly—“you seemed to fare best with me, so I’ve been with you almost round the clock.”
I glance at the bed, then arch a brow at him.
“Not to worry, Princess. I’ve been in this very chair since right after you fell asleep.”
Maybe that’s why he looks so ragged. “Do you think your connection to the crown helped me heal?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it before trying again. “I think there’s a connection between us that I don’t have an explanation for.”
My gaze snaps to his. He feels that too? “Before I became fae,” I say, “my power always felt stronger when you were close. I thought it was because you were Unseelie royalty and I was carrying the power of the crown, but if that was it, wouldn’t it have flared in the same way when I was near Sebastian?”
“That would make sense,” he says. Lifting a tentative hand to my face, Finn swallows. His fingers brush my cheek so lightly it could be the breeze. “I feel it too, you know. This connection between us. This . . . awareness of you.”
“Like the bond?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I can’t track you or sense your emotions so directly. But it’s almost as if your power’s connected to me.”
“Your power’s stronger when I’m around, like mine is when you are?”
“No. Not stronger, but linked somehow.” He shrugs. “I don’t have any answers, but I won’t deny that I take a bit smug satisfaction knowing you feel it too. Even if it’s a bit different on your end.”
I study the stars. “I’m sorry if I delayed your trip to visit the High Priestess.”
“You didn’t. Lunastal hasn’t begun, so we have time.”
“I should be fine to go by morning.”
“Brie . . .” His silver eyes find mine. “I’ve changed my mind about you coming with us into the mountains.”
I sit up in bed, and the room spins a little. “What? No. Finn, you can’t go without me. You said yourself that she’ll only meet with someone who has the power of the crown.” I press a hand to my chest. “That’s me.”
“I won’t risk them snatching you while we ride through the forest, and neither Sebastian nor Jalek can come with us because of their Seelie blood.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need Sebastian. I’ll have you.” The words make me feel more vulnerable than I like, so I duck my head and add, “And the others.”
Finn studies the dark bedsheets. “There’s something else I need to talk to the priestess about,” he says, worry hanging on every word. “Another reason I’m hesitant to take you with us.”
I grab a pillow from beside me and clutch it to my chest. It’s soft and smells like pine and leather. Like Finn. “What is it?”
He closes his eyes, and I take advantage of the moment to study his face in the moonlight—the sharp line of his jaw, the high cheekbones, his thick, elegant brows, and those dark curls that beg for my fingers. He’s always beautiful, but somehow more so in the starlight. When he finally opens his eyes again, he holds my gaze for a long moment before speaking. “Something’s wrong with me, Abriella. I don’t know if it’s connected to the disease that’s affecting the children or if it has something to do with the crown being tied to another heir.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”
He studies me with such intensity I can practically feel his eyes pass over my neck, my jaw, my cheeks, and settle on the bow of my lips.
A warm shiver passes over me at the intensity in those silver eyes.
“I’ve become weak,” he whispers. “Not always. Sometimes I feel fine—most of the time, even. But I’ve been having these spells where I feel like the very life has been sucked from me. I have no magic to draw on and very little strength.”
“Like when you were cursed?” I ask.
“No. It’s different.” His brow wrinkles as he considers. “With the curse, the magic was still here, just finite, scarce at times. What I’ve been feeling since Sebastian took the crown—it’s more like having the valve on my magic opened. As if it’s leaving me too fast, and for no reason.”
Life is magic. Magic is life. My chest aches as I imagine Finn’s power—his life being ripped from him. “Have you told anyone else?”